


hold me while the world falls

by DisneyPrincessTauriel (orphan_account)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams, F/F, Femslash, POV Female Character, Pacifist Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DisneyPrincessTauriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is changing, and all must face its changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night air was clear, a gentle breeze stirring Arwen's hair; it hardly seemed like a night different from any other. She looked off into the distance, to where the full moon sat far away. Its bright light lit up the sky, and beyond it stars shone.

She sat down, her eyes never once leaving the skies above. Rarely did an elf ever sleep, and when she had tried tonight she had only gotten a strange dream. Alone with her thoughts, she sat and thought.

Something, she knew, though surely not here, where sometimes she wondered if things ever truly did change, important had happened.

_

Eowyn leaned up against the wall, releasing a heavy sigh. Her uncle was looking worse and worse by the day, and there was only so much that could be done to help him. Her blond hair was messy, and from what she had seen in the mirror of herself earlier, she was paler than usual. Her eyes were hard to see, and most only noticed the bags under her eyes. Many would doubt that she was of nobility at first glance.

Not that being noble helped much these days. Most kingdoms were falling, and men ended up dead on the battlefield more and more. Many had even stopped hoping for survivors. Orcs were an ever present threat, and their numbers were growing by the day. It was a surprise that her brother had not been set off to fight yet. Still, he always looked at her intensely, and gave his goodbyes regularly. Time was moving, and days were passing quicker and quicker.

With the last of her strength, she opened the door to her bedroom. She tried to sleep, she truly did, but most nights she struggled to sleep, and she had to be quick to wake. Her dreams usually turned to nightmares, and if not they were nonsensical.

But, at least, they were not horrific.

_

For the first time, their eyes met. Arwen knew this dream, knew it quite well. She had been having it for years, whether or not she was actually asleep. Finally, Arwen could truly see who this woman was.

She was tall and thin, with messy blond hair and deep, sad eyes. They widened, recognition flashing through them. It was amazing how she had never considered the idea that maybe the woman also saw her.

But surely she did, as she stepped closer, a shaky hand out. Arwen leaned hers forward as well.

Her touch was cold, and as soon as they met, the woman was gone.

Arwen awoke in her bedroom, sitting straight up. Alone, she sat and pondered what had happened, the light of the moon and stars her only companion.

_

The seeds of trouble finally sprouted when the kingdoms of men began to fall. Behind their stone fortresses, they tried to remain strong, holding their own in the best ways that they possibly could. In the end, many went down fighting.

Perhaps, Arwen thought, that meant they died with some sense of dignity and pride, maybe even happiness.

There was no happiness in the eyes of the victims, however. Their eyes were hollow, looking forward and yet seeing nothing. Whatever had happened, few gave too many details. All Arwen knew was of battles and orcs and little else; the men were private in most matters.

Still, her father helped. She did not know why he did, or what even compelled him to do so. He could be a generous man, but even this seemed beyond him. Yet she sat beside him at his council meetings, back straight, eyes forward, and nodding when it seemed right to do so. Most did not notice her, yet she held up her background role. The men looked to the elves for hope, and she would do her best and try and give it to them. He had helped many others before, even a whole group of dwarves (and a hobbit as well as she was told) on their quest to slay a dragon.

There was only so much hope to go around, after all. If they believed that the elves still held some, then who were they to deny?

"Father," Arwen said one day after a recent meeting. It had been over trade, many of the men having started small towns near Rivendell, or passing onto whatever lay in the west.

"Yes," he responded, looking to her. His eyes were dim, and his frown deep. "Is something the matter?"

"You mentioned earlier that you were going to hire some of the men to fight off orcs..." She looked away from him. "When you said that, you looked afraid."

He sighed. "This is nothing that you should worry about. You have your own matters to attend to. What I predict may not even be correct..."

She wanted to press forward, but stopped herself. She simply nodded and turned around, walking away, hardly registering what passed her eyes. He could believe whatever he liked, even the lies that he told himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Eowyn awoke with a start; her entire body was covered in sweat, and her room seemed too small. Quickly, she put on some clothes and left, doing her best to remain silent. Maybe she would start her daily work early; at least then she would be able to do something else while she pondered over her thoughts. Besides, the rat Grima surely would not be awake at this hour.

When she had been a child, the dreams had seemed like nothing but fantastical stories. She did not know the woman, but she had seemed so amazing that she could not help but look. It took her a few years before she actually realized that she was an elf; once she learned, the pieces clicked together for how someone could be so beautiful. Before then, she had seen very few elves; when she was even younger, she had actually mistaken for taller men.

There was no doubt about it now, however; that woman, whoever she possibly was, was most certainly an elf.

That also opened up even more doors and asked more questions than Eowyn was sure that she could handle.

She held her hands together. At least now she was one step closer to answers, to finally understanding what these strange dreams that had haunted her on and off for years actually meant.

At least Eowyn could say that at least one good thing was still going for her.

As she began to work, she hummed under her breath.

_

The first men that her father hired were rather messy, even worse than some of the visiting dwarves. They held little regard for the elves, only showing as much respect as they could to keep their jobs. Arwen made little comment to them, keeping to herself. She had her studies to get to, and the men had orcs to fight.

Her father's frown deepened by the day, and his looked even further away. Wrinkles continued to line his otherwise young looking face, and he spoke very little. His hands always remained folded, and his discussions with even his family was short.

She had heard that her grandmother, Lady Galadriel, was said to have eyes that showed years of age; though it was certainly true, she could not believe that her grandmother looked the oldest. Arwen had spent many years with her, and yet even she seemed care free compared to her father.

"Father, are you feeling well?" The question was getting all too common.

"You need not worry about me."

She froze, her eyes meeting his. He knew it was a lie, and she knew it as well. He was the closest that an elf could look to sick without falling into grief altogether.

"And why not?" Arwen responded. "Father, I care for you deeply, and it would pain me to see you hurt."

"Everyone is hurt," he responded. He swallowed, and the lump in his throat looked painful. He sighed. "I am afraid."

"Of what? For whom?"

"I am afraid of an old enemy, and I am afraid for everyone that he will no doubt hurt if he is still alive out there."

_

Even after an exhausting day, even while her bones still ached from her daily activities, Eowyn could not bring herself to close her eyes. She looked to her ceiling, as if though the rocks over her head could give her answers to her unspoken questions.

If she had closed her eyes, perhaps she would see would have seen the mysterious elven lady tied to her.

Or, perhaps, she would have seen images of the war. If she listened closely, she was sure that she could hear the sound of drum beats and distant screaming.

_

It had been years since Arwen had last seen the wizard, even later than her own father. Despite the years, he looked the same, though his beard did look a bit longer. Like an elf, he never seemed to truly age, though he always kept an air of wisdom with his age.

"My Lady, Arwen," he said in his deep voice. He removed one of his hands from his walking stick and held it out to her. "It has been many years since I have last laid eyes on you; the legends are certainly true. You are most certainly the fairest of your people."

She nodded. "Thank you. Have you come to see my father?"

He nodded. "Is he still here? I had not heard if he left for The Grey Havens."

"He did not." She frowned. "I do not know where you would get the idea."

The other elves left, more and more by the day. Sometimes she thought of following them, and she knew without asking that her father would allow her to go. Still, she had had not even lived in Middle Earth for three thousand years yet; if she left already, then there would be no returning.

"Oh, never mind," Gandalf responded. "I assume that you are in good health."

"Of course," she responded, giving him a light curtsy. "Would you care for anything to eat or drink? Surely you must be tired after your journey here."

"Some food would be good," he said, giving her a small smile. "The more I walk across Middle Earth, the longer that it seems to get."

"What is the news?"

"Bad," he said simply, and then nothing else. Arwen recognized the silence immediately; it was far from a normal silence, a simple pause. This was the silence that enveloped her father at all times, and hung over him like a cloud heavy with rain.

She led him away from Rivendell's entrance. He followed her silently, his walking stick making a tapping noise as it hit the ground.

"I do hope that your father comes back quickly; there are many things that I need to discuss with him."

_

When her father finally did return, he was tired. He left to speak with Gandalf, still wearing his armor. A few men gave her some curious looks, but other than that, she was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arwen and Eowyn should meet within the next 2-3 chapters. Right now, I'm really focusing on world building.


End file.
